


American Honey

by thedeviltohisangel



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel
Genre: Angry Frank, F/M, more characters to be introduced - Freeform, will tie in with Ignite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeviltohisangel/pseuds/thedeviltohisangel
Summary: How Frank saves Penelope and she saves him in return.





	1. Chapter 1

She had promised herself she would never feel this way again. The loud thumping of her heart, the shaking in her hands as she gripped her keys defensively and searched blindly for the small can of pepper spray she kept stashed in her purse.

She was alone. Completely and utterly alone on this street. In the dark. With two men trailing behind her. There were only a few blocks left to her building but there was no way she’d be able to get inside without them also following her in. No matter what happened she wasn’t sure how the night would end on a positive note.

If only I was Black Widow she thought to herself as her fist finally enclosed around the pepper spray.

“Hey baby! Don’t walk too far! We don’t want you to tire out before we have our fun with you.” She cringed as they laughed together, partly out of disgust but also out of fear. Fear that her absolute worst nightmare would come true for a second time in her life.

She heard him before she saw him. The dirt behind her were unable to get the expletives out of their mouths before there were sickening cracks and thuds. Then silence.

“Ma’am you’re good now. If you don’t mind I would like to accompany you the rest of the way home. Make sure there is no more trouble.” She turned to stare at him with an open mouth.

“Were you…Were you also following me?” her voice cracked a bit as she forced the words out.

“Not you. Them. Heard them talking earlier about going out tonight. Luckily I found them again before…You’re alright, right? They didn’t touch you?”

“No I’m ok. Physically.” He looked at the men on the ground. One groaned and rolled over to which he responded with a swift kick in the ribs. “I should get home. Are you…going to dispose of them?”

“Once I know you’re safe.” She nodded swiftly before turning and continuing the direction she had been going before he had swooped in to save the day.

“My names Penelope. Thank you for that back there.” He nodded politely, holding the building door open for her as she slid in.

“Don’t worry. It’s what I do.” Penelope let out an awkward chuckle as she put her key into the second door.

“We’ll hopefully I’ll never have to see you around…?” she paused looking for his name.

“Frank. And yeah hopefully not.” She shut the door behind her, looking to wave goodbye but he had already disappeared into the night.


	2. I Know What You Think You Are

“Penelope, I am just saying that you should consider quitting and doing something else with your life. Your manager clearly has no care for you as a human being and what he pays is barely enough for your rent in that apartment, which you know your father and I worry about-”

“Mom, can you take a deep breath and pause for one second?” Her mother had called her from Florida where her parents had officially moved to after her father’s retirement party last month. Penelope hadn’t slept a wink the night before, every creak making her jump in fear of her harassers making themselves known once more.

“We just worry, Penny. We shouldn’t have moved this far. After everything with Finn…” Penelope sighed and looked down into the pancake batter she had been mixing when the phone had rang.

“I know. But he’s gone now. Won’t be bothering me.” But that doesn’t mean all men will stop bothering me, she thought as she tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, finishing the prep work for her breakfast.

“Just make sure that if you need anything, absolutely anything, you call us. Even if it’s five dollars to get you on the city bus for a couple days, you call us…and God forbid my baby needs me to get on a flight home…”

“Mom, I’m okay. I am alive and breathing and trying to make myself chocolate chip pancakes with one hand, and I am okay.” Outwardly she was, but inwardly she was afraid to walk out her front door again.

“Then I’ll let you go, my sweetness; enjoy your breakfast and your day…Call me Monday?”

“I will, promise. Give dad a kiss for me.” They exchanged one last round of love before Penelope was actually hanging up the phone and spooning batter onto her electric griddle. As she moved to the cabinet to grab her plastic container of chocolate chips, the orange envelope from her lawyer caught her eye. Inside were divorce papers that needed to be signed but with one condition which she wasn’t sure she would be able to meet.

Once her food was done, she plopped onto her worn-down couch in order to eat it, avoiding the deep gash in the cushion that was exposing the minimal fluff she had stuffed in there. She normally liked to watch the news in the morning so that if any of her co-workers or friends decided to bring up an event throughout the day she would at least have a basic understanding to help her navigate through the discussion or conversation.

This morning, as with most, the news was not filled with headlines about puppies and sunshine and little children having a summer of fun. It was about a mass murder.

“This morning, local police are investigating a hit on a pub here in Hell’s Kitchen that left 13 dead. Many are also speculating this was a frequent hangout of the Irish Mafia and could have been a coordinated retaliation attack done by a rival gang.” Penelope chewed thoughtfully as she thought about the fact that the mentioned pub was really not that far from where she was currently sitting; perhaps the men who had followed her last night had just gotten derailed from their involvement in the hit.

But then there was the problem of Frank. The man who had so selflessly saved her life the night before and had been enough of a gentleman to even walk her to her door. She didn’t anticipate ever seeing him again, even though she would have liked to at least thank him with a batch of chocolate chip cookies. She wondered if Frank had come upon her because his usual path was blocked by the police scene.

“So far, police have no real leads, only likening it to an armed assault you might see on a battlefield in the Middle East. Anyone with any information is expected to come forward or call the anonymous tip line shown below on your screen.” As if her neighborhood wasn’t bad enough already, as if the entirety of her friends and family didn’t worry enough already. It wasn’t even like she had a dog to bark if someone began approaching her door in the middle of the night. She had one once, Jake had been his name, but one day she had come home to find him gone, and she hadn’t the stomach to ask him what had happened.

Penelope looked around her apartment thoughtfully, remembering how elated and empowered she had felt when she had first moved in. She had been away from him for the first time in years and the level of freedom she felt could not be rivaled by anything or anyone else. Except perhaps her one true escape, the only thing that had stuck with her through every up and down that life had decided to bestow upon her. Dance.

Ever since she was six years old and her mother had enrolled her in a child’s beginner ballet and tap dance, she had been inseparable from the studio. Her whole closet had been filled with tutus of varying colors, the rosiness in her cheeks morphing into bruises and blisters from her shoes on her feet. She would pour over the cassette tapes her teachers sent her home with, memorizing the orchestral score and attempting to ingrain into her soul. She never wished to dance from memory, only from her heart.

After she fell into a relationship with him, she momentarily lost her way. He had forced her to quit the company she had been prima of, even warranting a glance from the New York City Ballet Company wasn’t enough for him to allow her back in. She should have known then that she had escape, or she would die from his touch.

It was then, on her couch that June day that she decided she needed to reclaim every passion which she had once held and let go in the name of self-preservation. From dancing to cooking, every pasta sauce she could find on the internet to wearing socks while she slept. Penelope was going to rediscover herself even if it killed her.

The lights were off when she entered the studio. It was a Sunday night, and everything was closed before it opened back up to the hustle and bustle that a new week brought. She flicked them on whilst dropping her bag and padding over to the mirrors that took up the entirety of the wall.

In them, she saw a girl with fiery red hair, the sloppy bun - a telltale sign it had been awhile since she had pulled it back tight enough to stretch the skin. Tight enough that it snapped her brain into the mindset that being her former self had brought. You hit your moves with precision but grace, a flow that was sometimes hard to attain thus making her sport not for the faint-of-heart.

Back then, she had been strong in mind, body and soul. No move was too hard, no lift too high and no number of turns was too many. Her toes had gone numb years ago from the pain of pointe-shoes; that was never the issue anymore. It was words that had started to break her.

She ignored them for as long as she possibly could. Rolled her shoulders hoping that would roll off like droplets of water with the movement. It used to just be within the confines of the studio that she had to deal with negativity. But eventually it had moved outside of the walls.

But she was past that obstacle now. Now she was on the other side, and the grass certainly was starting to grow in greener.

She touched the bar gingerly, her eyes closing as the rough wood against her palms singed her with memories. Her toes curled into the perfect form that somewhere along the line she had perfected. No longer did she have to think about it or chant in her mind to keep them pointed, keep them pointed no matter what else was happening.

Her leg lifted, and she felt the pull of her hamstring that used to not exist but now did after her prolonged break. She held it until the pain transformed into a numbing warmth, the blood rushing through her veins and muscles as a sign that her body was alive and well.

She wasn’t going to push herself far today, not wanting to break anymore than one wall. Reverting back to her old self, or at least trying to, would take more than an afternoon. That was if it was even possible to find her again. Penelope was at least willing to try.

When she exited the building, it was dusk. The sun had set, giving the sky and surrounding area a grey tint. The air was slightly chilled than it had been when she had arrived early, and her lungs filled fully with the fresh air. Her earbuds were poised to go into her ears when she heard the bark of a dog that sounded pained.

She froze and waited to hear the sound again. Maybe it had been helped or perhaps it had even been her imagination. When the whimper reached her ears again, she decided to slowly move in the direction it was coming from.

It was about halfway towards the sound that she realized it might be a bad idea. With no knowledge of how the dog had been hurt or how it would react upon seeing her. She stopped on her way over to have a talk with herself.

“I could just call animal control. They are trained to deal with this. But then again. It’s New York City. It’ll be awhile before they can come to help. The least I can do is peek.” Finally decided on a plan of action, she continued her march towards the sound of the pained animal.

It was a stone grey pitbull that greeted her when she turned into the alley. The dog seemed to be there alone. It didn’t even have the energy to bark at her as she took tentative steps towards the creature.

“Who on earth would hurt such a beautiful boy?”

“You shouldn’t stick around here long enough to find out.” She whirled around with a gasp to see Frank, the same man who had just saved her the night before.

“Frank? Are you following me?”

“No. I follow trouble. Trouble seems to follow you.” Penelope scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her in a defensive stance.

“Thank you for the character assessment. Is this your dog?”

“I think I am here for the same reason as you are. You heard his whimper and couldn’t turn away.” Frank wasn’t going to mention why he had been in the area in the first place.

“Well, do you have a car so one of us can take him to the vet? Or do you want to call animal control?” Frank looked over his shoulder in a practiced way as if it was habitual.

“I can get you a car if you want to handle it.”

“What do you mean-” Penelope didn’t even finish her sentence before Frank was off and around the corner, returning a few moments later with a van that looked straight from the 70s. Brown and orange paneling and all. “Frank.”

“Don’t ask me any questions. Just get this poor fellow the help he deserves and needs.” he handed her a scrap of paper. “Call me if you need any help with the bills.”

“This is one of the oddest encounters of my life. We crossed paths once! That does not give you the right to be so comfortable around me.”

“Just trying to get the job done, ma’am. Never have to interact with me again unless coincidence decides we must.” She watched as he soothed the dog, who didn’t have much in him to put up a fight anyways, before lifting him up and carrying him into the back of the van.

“Is this a stolen car?”

“It was abandoned before I came into possession of it.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” Penelope massaged her temples, and Frank looked at her expectantly, not wanting to thrust the keys into her face in an impolite manner. “Are you going to want this…thing back?” She was hesitating to call it car.

“If I need it back, I’ll let you know.”

“How?”

“I have my ways.” And she was very sure that he did. She climbed into the car and it actually started after a couple of attempts. “Drive safe. And seriously. Call if you need anything regarding that dog.”

“Thanks. And you stay out of trouble.” It was in the streetlight that she had begun to notice to bruising around both of his eyes. “And get a bag of peas on those eyes.” He smirked at her before hitting the car and taking a few steps back so she could pull out safely.

She watched him fade in her rearview mirror before she blinked, and he had disappeared into the night.


End file.
